My Problematic Fave: A juicy question with many answers: Catherine Breillat. Dollarama. Nina Simone's version of "I Loves You, Porgy" (it's not on Simone, she saves it from Gershwin, it's just the one I love). I would say Woody Allen's Husbands and Wives or Deconstructing Harry, but I think it's okay to enjoy those (so bleak and revealing, they are basically a confession), it's more problematic that I love Manhattan.
First Movie I went on a Date for: Sweet Home Alabama, a double date with my neighbourhood friend and two guys from another school we met hanging out (as teens do) after school hours at the playground. He thought I was crying during an emotional scene where Reese Witherspoon visits a grave in her hometown (A grandparent? Childhood dog?), but I was a cynical 14-year-old, and not then or now a Rom Com girl, and was trying to muffle my laughter.
My Movie/TV Character Style Icon: Julia Stiles in Hamlet, Kiera Knightley in Love, Actually, Satine in Moulin Rouge, Maggie Cheung and Nathalie Richard in Irma Vep.
The First Sex Scene I Ever Saw: I can't remember for sure, but probably Titanic.
… and it made me feel: Confused: it gave me absolutely no information on what sex actually is, only that there were certain signals I would one day understand (like the men who laugh knowingly when they see the fogged up windows). Also afraid: it seemed sex would always leave some trace, and you could not hide it from anyone. Also romantic: sex was fun and actually fine, no one was hurt by it or punished for it (although it did happen right before they hit the iceberg, but this was not a coincidence that my young mind internalized.)
Best Needle Drop: Most of the songs in Rushmore (but maybe "Oo La La" by The Faces the most). I didn't even know what those songs were when I watched it at 15, but I knew that they were perfect.
I Wish this Fictional Meal Existed IRL: This meal does exist, but I have never seen the timpano from Big Night out in the wild, and although it seems like something that is better in theory than in execution, I'm not sure I'll feel fully satisfied if I never try one.
Untouchable Classic that I hate: How do I even pick! Citizen Kane does very little for me (except Welles, who I find quite hot), 2001: A Space Odyssey is glacial and so British (I do think the scene approaching the monolith on the moon is fab), Bresson leaves me dry (a symptom, perhaps, of him casting actors because they're hot), I find Parasite shallow, I only like the scenes in Stalker before and after they go to the Zone, and I can't get past Jeanne Dielman's melodramatic ending (which became an irritating staple of art house film).
Celebrity I had on my wall as a teen
Frank Black Francis and Karen O.
My film/TV OTP is: I can't think of a time when I felt the ending of a film or show should have been different, I like when characters come together, I like when they fall apart.
The Reality TV Show I Would Win: I think it's obvious that my true place is not as a competitor, but as a judge.
It’s February 10th, 2005. You’ve just had your eight-and-a-half-th birthday and, four days before Valentine’s Day, love is on your mind. Chanukah this year yielded an astonishing haul of Gap Kids clothing from your grandmother. You’ve just found this new way of pushing your hair back with a green paisley bandana, and your camp friend gave you one of those string hair wraps just behind your left ear. You stand with confidence, and your belly sticks out, but you don’t entirely know about not liking that yet. All this to say—you’re looking hot. The hottest you’ve ever been.
It’s four days before Valentine’s Day, and there’s someone in your after-school drawing class, a girl named Leighton, who always wants to sit next to you. And you always want to sit next to her. And in the winter, when the sun sets just as you’ve all sat down around the table, the warm thick light comes through the window and touches Leighton’s already-orange hair in a glow of auburn that overwhelms you and you think you want Leighton to be your only and best friend forever, but it’s accompanied by a sort of yearning that you are unfamiliar with in your other best-friend-forever-ships. It’s a desire to possess. To hold, own, not share, touch (that auburn hair, the light on her freckles), to…kiss? No.
That night, you return home after art class and eat dinner quietly with your mom and sister, who are both grumpy. Your sister is newly a teenager, so she’s often grumpy and no longer likes to play in the same way that you do. You finish dinner and IM some of your friends from school and think that maybe Leighton will have messaged you, but she hasn’t. You anticipated that—she usually goes straight to dinner and does her homework. That auburn hair, falling over her notebook.
You go to the living room and your mom and sister are turning on The O.C., which you usually aren’t allowed to watch with them, but sometimes, if you approach quietly and don’t move or speak too much, you’ll be unnoticed enough to be allowed to stay. Allowed into their separate world—of older people, of things you don’t know yet, of shows too mature. They seem to not notice you, so you join them on the couch.
It is Season 2, Episode 12, “The Lonely Hearts Club”. You haven’t watched much of The O.C. because you aren’t always allowed but your friends at school like it so you figure you should probably like it. When your cat died last month your mom let you watch an episode and, the next day, even rented Season 1, Disc 1 from Video 99 so that you and your sister could stay home from school and watch it while you were sad. The next day your sister wasn’t sad anymore, but you still were, so you told your friends about watching The O.C. all day but not about your cat dying. Your friends all think Ryan is hot but you like Seth, he’s Jewish and awkward, he’s “your people” so to speak.
Or at least, you thought you liked Seth, but as you sit on the couch and watch Season 2, Episode 12 with your mom and your sister you find you are immediately and entirely enamoured with Alex; her platinum blond hair streaked with purple and styled with an exaggerated pouf, her thin boyish body, her bicep butterfly tattoo, thick studded leather wrist cuff, skinny eyebrows. The perfect mixture of pretty and punk. And you find out she has an ex-girlfriend (an ex-girlfriend!) and that she and Marissa have been getting close. You love Marissa too, though you find her annoying. She has a strange affectation to her speech that you didn’t mind until your sister told you that she wasn’t, actually, British. You just love watching her. You love her freckles, her sad eyes. Full pout. You picture how she looks in the golden setting sun when Ryan watches her from the car as he skips town, the light making her hair look red.
You can’t decide which of them is prettier, so you like it when they’re on screen together because then you don’t have to choose. And you like it when Alex teases Marissa. And when Marissa smiles kind of shyly at Alex. You like it when they laugh. You like how Alex’s bra strap shows beneath her tight, layered tank tops. Her thick eyeliner surrounding sharp blue eyes. Okay, maybe you like Alex more. But either way, they’re both teenage girls, so they’re perfect to you.
Then all of a sudden, as the episode begins to come to an end, they’re at the bar together. Marissa has found her way back to Alex after blowing her off. She was scared. Alex was hurt. They approach each other timidly but excitedly. Anticipation is palpable, but for what you are unclear. Alex leads Marissa to the beach, saying, “It’s almost time for the tide to change”. They sit side by side, looking at the water, Alex’s Converse in the sand, both of their shoulders slumped shyly forward. And then—and then. The kiss. The music, Bell X1 singing, can’t you see the grass is greener where it rains? Their hair moves softly in the wind. Marissa’s hand on the small of Alex’s back. The kiss. The kiss. They kissed!! Your cheeks grow warm, your throat tight. As soon as the episode ends, you go to your room, not brushing your teeth. Not saying goodnight to your mom and sister.
You look in the small mirror you have in your room. At your hair pushed back by the green paisley bandana, Gap Kids layered tee, tummy. Red cheeks, still flushed. You think of what you would look like with breasts, with plucked eyebrows, with hip bones, and a butterfly tattoo. You think how when you’re a teenager, you might be skinny and stand close and secret with another beautiful skinny teen and you could kiss, maybe, only if you wanted to, only if the moment felt right, the tide coming in. Marissa’s full red lip. Alex’s cocked thin eyebrow. All soft arms and freckles. Hair made red by the sun.
You think about Leighton, how she probably sent you an IM, and feel the same burn in your cheeks. You’re embarrassed to see how they’ve reddened again in the mirror, so you turn the light off and lie in bed. You think about that tender kiss. Long hair, sound of ocean, Bell X1. Think about what they must have smelt like, tasted like, Marissa’s full red lip. You think about dead cats and annoying girls and pretty teenagers. You think about yourself, your blushed cheeks in the mirror, your flat chest, flat in a child way and not in a pretty teenager way. You think about four and a half years from now when you will be an Official Teenager. You wonder if you and Leighton will still be friends. If your highschool will have SnO.C. dances and car-stealing bad boys and girls with ex-girlfriends. You wonder if you will be thin, beautiful, tattooed, with low-rise jeans and hipbones. You wonder if Marissa and Alex will fall in love. Auburn hair and freckles. Your cheeks grow hot again.
The last words of the episode ring in your head:
The tide just turned.
It’s February 10th, 2005. You’ve just had your eight-and-a-half-th birthday and, four days before Valentine’s Day, love is on your mind. Chanukah this year yielded an astonishing haul of Gap Kids clothing from your grandmother. You’ve just found this new way of pushing your hair back with a green paisley bandana, and your camp friend gave you one of those string hair wraps just behind your left ear. You stand with confidence, and your belly sticks out, but you don’t entirely know about not liking that yet. All this to say—you’re looking hot. The hottest you’ve ever been.
It’s four days before Valentine’s Day, and there’s someone in your after-school drawing class, a girl named Leighton, who always wants to sit next to you. And you always want to sit next to her. And in the winter, when the sun sets just as you’ve all sat down around the table, the warm thick light comes through the window and touches Leighton’s already-orange hair in a glow of auburn that overwhelms you and you think you want Leighton to be your only and best friend forever, but it’s accompanied by a sort of yearning that you are unfamiliar with in your other best-friend-forever-ships. It’s a desire to possess. To hold, own, not share, touch (that auburn hair, the light on her freckles), to…kiss? No.
That night, you return home after art class and eat dinner quietly with your mom and sister, who are both grumpy. Your sister is newly a teenager, so she’s often grumpy and no longer likes to play in the same way that you do. You finish dinner and IM some of your friends from school and think that maybe Leighton will have messaged you, but she hasn’t. You anticipated that—she usually goes straight to dinner and does her homework. That auburn hair, falling over her notebook.
You go to the living room and your mom and sister are turning on The O.C., which you usually aren’t allowed to watch with them, but sometimes, if you approach quietly and don’t move or speak too much, you’ll be unnoticed enough to be allowed to stay. Allowed into their separate world—of older people, of things you don’t know yet, of shows too mature. They seem to not notice you, so you join them on the couch.
It is Season 2, Episode 12, “The Lonely Hearts Club”. You haven’t watched much of The O.C. because you aren’t always allowed but your friends at school like it so you figure you should probably like it. When your cat died last month your mom let you watch an episode and, the next day, even rented Season 1, Disc 1 from Video 99 so that you and your sister could stay home from school and watch it while you were sad. The next day your sister wasn’t sad anymore, but you still were, so you told your friends about watching The O.C. all day but not about your cat dying. Your friends all think Ryan is hot but you like Seth, he’s Jewish and awkward, he’s “your people” so to speak.
Or at least, you thought you liked Seth, but as you sit on the couch and watch Season 2, Episode 12 with your mom and your sister you find you are immediately and entirely enamoured with Alex; her platinum blond hair streaked with purple and styled with an exaggerated pouf, her thin boyish body, her bicep butterfly tattoo, thick studded leather wrist cuff, skinny eyebrows. The perfect mixture of pretty and punk. And you find out she has an ex-girlfriend (an ex-girlfriend!) and that she and Marissa have been getting close. You love Marissa too, though you find her annoying. She has a strange affectation to her speech that you didn’t mind until your sister told you that she wasn’t, actually, British. You just love watching her. You love her freckles, her sad eyes. Full pout. You picture how she looks in the golden setting sun when Ryan watches her from the car as he skips town, the light making her hair look red.
You can’t decide which of them is prettier, so you like it when they’re on screen together because then you don’t have to choose. And you like it when Alex teases Marissa. And when Marissa smiles kind of shyly at Alex. You like it when they laugh. You like how Alex’s bra strap shows beneath her tight, layered tank tops. Her thick eyeliner surrounding sharp blue eyes. Okay, maybe you like Alex more. But either way, they’re both teenage girls, so they’re perfect to you.
Then all of a sudden, as the episode begins to come to an end, they’re at the bar together. Marissa has found her way back to Alex after blowing her off. She was scared. Alex was hurt. They approach each other timidly but excitedly. Anticipation is palpable, but for what you are unclear. Alex leads Marissa to the beach, saying, “It’s almost time for the tide to change”. They sit side by side, looking at the water, Alex’s Converse in the sand, both of their shoulders slumped shyly forward. And then—and then. The kiss. The music, Bell X1 singing, can’t you see the grass is greener where it rains? Their hair moves softly in the wind. Marissa’s hand on the small of Alex’s back. The kiss. The kiss. They kissed!! Your cheeks grow warm, your throat tight. As soon as the episode ends, you go to your room, not brushing your teeth. Not saying goodnight to your mom and sister.
You look in the small mirror you have in your room. At your hair pushed back by the green paisley bandana, Gap Kids layered tee, tummy. Red cheeks, still flushed. You think of what you would look like with breasts, with plucked eyebrows, with hip bones, and a butterfly tattoo. You think how when you’re a teenager, you might be skinny and stand close and secret with another beautiful skinny teen and you could kiss, maybe, only if you wanted to, only if the moment felt right, the tide coming in. Marissa’s full red lip. Alex’s cocked thin eyebrow. All soft arms and freckles. Hair made red by the sun.
You think about Leighton, how she probably sent you an IM, and feel the same burn in your cheeks. You’re embarrassed to see how they’ve reddened again in the mirror, so you turn the light off and lie in bed. You think about that tender kiss. Long hair, sound of ocean, Bell X1. Think about what they must have smelt like, tasted like, Marissa’s full red lip. You think about dead cats and annoying girls and pretty teenagers. You think about yourself, your blushed cheeks in the mirror, your flat chest, flat in a child way and not in a pretty teenager way. You think about four and a half years from now when you will be an Official Teenager. You wonder if you and Leighton will still be friends. If your highschool will have SnO.C. dances and car-stealing bad boys and girls with ex-girlfriends. You wonder if you will be thin, beautiful, tattooed, with low-rise jeans and hipbones. You wonder if Marissa and Alex will fall in love. Auburn hair and freckles. Your cheeks grow hot again.
The last words of the episode ring in your head:
The tide just turned.
